


Knowing is Half the Battle; The Other Half is Fighting

by gala_apples



Series: The Clothes They Wear [2]
Category: Bandom, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Coming Out, Genderqueer, Other, Touring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-08
Updated: 2012-06-08
Packaged: 2017-11-07 06:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/428206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gala_apples/pseuds/gala_apples
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Four people that found out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Knowing is Half the Battle; The Other Half is Fighting

In the end it goes down almost exactly like Mikey’s nightmares. He hears a ‘motherfucker!’ from the bathroom. Nobody reacts because it’s Frank and that word is more frequent than 'and' or 'the' in his vocabulary. But then he says it again with a different emphasis and a longer pause between the two. Mikey looks up and none of the others do, which he guesses means it’s his turn to figure out what Frank did and how to fix it.

He wander to the back of the bus. The toilet is nearly overflowing, bowl full of a nasty colour. Normally Mikey would be more concerned about how if the bus has a sudden stop there will be shitty water all over the floor. But he doesn’t care at all because Frank’s got the lid off the tank.

“Motherfucker,” Frank says again like the third time’s a charm that will magically fix the toilet. “Like I know what the fuck I’m doing. I might be Italian but I’m not that Italian, we’re not all fucking plumbers.” And normally Mikey would riff off that with a Mario Brothers comment, but Frank’s reaching into the water and pulling out a key. Their key.

“What dumbass dropped their key in the toilet? I bet it was-” Mikey can’t help it. He panics. He punches Frank as hard as he can and while Frank is stunned and grimacing a bit Mikey snatches the key and flees to his bunk.

Four hours later and nobody has come to talk to him. He feels guilty. Sure it was a vision of horror come to life, but how was Frank supposed to know that? The bus pulls to a stop at the venue and he asks Frank to stay on the bus for a second. Frank’s arms are crossed, obviously pissed, possibly even offended. But he stays, and Mikey uses his key.

*

It’s risky. Sort of. Not really. It’s not risky in reality, it’s just got this mental flavour of risk, and that makes it better.

Things have gotten a bit easier since Frank found out. Not incredibly so, there are even less places to hide a suitcase in a van and trailer combo than there are on a bus. But Frank’s almost more into the idea of it than they are. He says he doesn’t want to try it himself or anything, but he thinks they should start wearing their shit while they’re driving from venue to venue. Gerard always shakes his head no, and Frank always falls back to ‘well then, you need to go out and party’.

After three weeks of not being able to wear the clothes he wants, Mikey starts siding with Frank. And finally in Germany Gerard gives up. Frank takes everyone out for a night, first round on me being a bit suspicious but also a incentive guaranteed to get all four of them to follow him. Gerard pretends to be hideously hung over just long enough for them to leave and then they change in the back of the van.

It’s a gay bar, as far as Mikey can tell. At the very least, there’s a predominantly male patronage. He’s not sure where the fuck he is, actually. Frank managed to sneak into a hotel and use their internet to suggest where they should go. The music isn’t Gerard’s style, but Mikey wants to dance and Gerard stays with him. Nobody hits on them. Mikey isn’t sure if it’s because they’re obviously unattractive crossdressers and the men of Germany want manlier men, if it’s because they pass for women and the men of Germany want other men, or if it’s because they look like they’re a couple. It doesn’t really matter. Mikey isn’t here to get laid. He just wants to wear his skirt in peace.

He’s spent the night being ignored so he startles when he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns around, skirt flapping in the created breeze. It’s Brian, and the only thing Mikey can think is ‘oh shit’.

“You weren’t answering your phones. It’s time to start driving.” Brian takes a slow look from head to toe and adds “Frank said to say you’ve got a change in the trailer. I wasn’t sure what he meant, but he said he’d kick my ass if I didn’t tell you. He wanted to come get you but I didn’t trust him to not just join you. I take it he’s been helping you hide this?”

“There’s nothing to hide,” Gerard says defiantly.

“Then don’t.” Something inside Mikey cracks when he hears the closest to any permission they’ll get to reveal themselves.

*

After the onslaught of drama, Gerard calls Bob. Mikey’s in the room because he hasn’t really left Gerard’s side. Not in a ‘I don’t trust you’ sort of way, just in a ‘shit sucks, but maybe it’ll suck less with someone else’ way.

He’s not particularly listening in. He can hear what Gerard says, of course, but the comic book he’s reading is just as interesting. There’s no sense in trying to figure out both ends of the conversation when they’re just going to have a band meeting in twenty minutes when Gerard’s done to talk about all of it.

And then Mikey hears Gerard say “the thing is I crossdress sometimes. If you’re not fine with that we’d rather find a different drummer.” Mikey isn’t surprised Gerard’s being bold about this, they’ve had a few conversations about how things are going to be more real without alcohol.

“That’s because I don’t dress in public. Yet. Ray doesn’t know, Frank and Mikey do.” Mikey appreciates that Gerard’s trying to cover his ass in case Bob decides to be a dick and out him, but it’s bullshit. It’s them together or not at all. Still, he hopes that Bob is fine with it. They’ve got a tour in a week and that requires a drummer. Mikey’d say a bigot is better than no drummer at all, but he knows better than to say that to Gerard.

“You make a good point.” Gerard puts his hand over the phone so Bob can’t hear him and turns to Mikey. “He says I’ll probably look better in a dress than Bert ever did.”

Gerard goes back to his conversation, and Mikey tunes out. The danger has been averted.

*

Mikey steps into the stage, and he plays, and he plays, and he lets Frank bounce off him, and he plays, and he tries to ignore that he can feel a breeze on his knees. It’s got nothing to do with the music, and that’s what he’s doing now, playing music.

And then they all quiet down, because there’s a thousand kids in the audience that want to know _what the fuck_ , and Gerard is going to tell them.

“This isn’t a fucking gimmick!” Gerard screams. The close-to-silence is oddly frightening. In all the years of Gerard screaming to their fans they’ve never not replied back with wordless shouts. “This isn’t gonna be a dance routine! This is people wearing what makes them happy!”

Frank rushes up the stage at Gerard, half scaling his body. His thighs show under the black skirt printed with anatomically correct skeleton hipbones on either side. Mikey knows there are going to be a billion pictures of Frank’s thighs on the internet by the end of the night and laughs.

“Say it with me. Fuck gender!” Gerard holds the microphone towards the crowd, Bob raises his arms, drumsticks pointed up, blouse riding up, Mikey and Ray building the sound underneath Gerard. The faceless boys and girls and maybe even a few in-between scream it back. Gerard shoves the mic back under his face, “fuck gender!” and waits for his reply. “FUCK GENDER!” one last time, and then Frank gets off him and they all barrel into Thanks For The Venom.

A few songs later Gerard brings it up again. “If you’ve ever been called a freak, if you’ve ever been told you look weird, or you’re wearing the wrong thing, you are not alone!” Mikey moves forward and drapes himself over his brother. The guitar is in the way of real contact, but he’s able to give Gerard a quick brotherly kiss on the cheek before Frank tackles them both.

Mikey fucking loves his band. He’s in the only band in the world that would agree to Gerard’s idea of playing one full show wearing womens clothes. It’ll never happen again, but the pictures will last a lifetime, and hopefully so will the message.


End file.
